


Until you shook my tree

by becka



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Phone Sex, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:16:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becka/pseuds/becka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taylor figures her twenties are the best time to experiment, and right now that means letting her boyfriend sleep with someone else sometimes. As long as she can hear all about it afterwards.</p>
<p>Set in the Haylor heyday of December 2012. Title from the Dixie Chicks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until you shook my tree

Harry never asked her for permission, and maybe that’s why she offered it. In the hotel in New York, cross-legged on her bed, he said, “If we’re doing this, there’s something I have to sort out back in London. I was having a thing, but I’ll call it off, no question.” 

And she said, “Maybe you don’t have to.” John had said the words “open relationship” like every sleazy cliché everyone warned her about, and she knew that wasn’t anything she wanted, not from anyone. But Harry’s different. He’s trying to be what she wants, offering up front just because she pressed a kiss at the corner of his mouth in the car from Central Park. Maybe he was doing penance for last spring, for killing whatever was between them before it even had time to get started. But it felt good, watching his eyes widen, catching him off-guard.

“Really, I will,” he said, like maybe it was a test he had to pass. “I just want to do it properly. I want to talk to him”—it was like the pronoun slipped in unbidden, and Harry cringed, and Taylor hadn’t known exactly, but she’d suspected—“rather than just letting it go without saying anything.”

“It’s casual, right? Your thing in London?”

Harry ran an absent hand through his hair, shrugged sheepishly. “I sort of fell into it and never fell out again. We never really talked about the… status of it or anything. He doesn’t really do relationships, and I was never bothered about it, so… I can say I mean Nick, right? It’s stupid to act as though I can’t tell you.”

Taylor swallowed and nodded, played with the hem of her sweater. She’d seen them together in photos and never thought anything of it, and she tried not to feel stupid for that. “So that’s casual,” she said. “And this isn’t?” She let it go up at the end like a question, and Harry looked at her solemnly from under his bangs.

“If you want it to not be,” he said, and Taylor recognized that fluttery feeling in her chest, the prelude to a hard fall. Harry bit at his lower lip, and it was hard not to just kiss him.

Taylor took a deep breath, thought that this was exactly the kind of thing your early twenties were for, this kind of experiment. “I’d like it not to be. I’d like it to be just you and me. But I think maybe we could have an exception, if you want to see Nick sometimes. Casually. And if you wanted to tell me about it after.”

Harry nodded slowly, eyes far away as he considered. “I could do that, yeah. Do you make these sorts of arrangements a lot? Exceptions?”

She felt nearly giddy with the newness of it. “Never before. But there’s a first time for everything, right?”

And then they’d spent the next two weeks joined at the hip, and it wasn’t as though Taylor had forgotten what she’d said, what they’d agreed, but it didn’t come up. They went on dates that turned into sleepovers, and he licked birthday frosting off her fingers with his dirtiest dimpled smile, and they learned a hundred ways to touch each other.

So this morning, when he calls, early, it’s the first time it’s mattered that they had a deal. She’s in bed in LA, and she counts the time difference when her phone rings, realizes it’s afternoon in London, and says, “Hey, Harry,” without even looking.

“Hi,” says Harry a bit stiffly, and she sits halfway up, thinking something’s gone wrong, playing it out in her head already before he can say anything else. “So you said I should let you know, if something happened with Nick. And it did, so I… I have absolutely no idea how to conduct this phone call.”

She lies back down, pressing a hand over her racing heart. When she closes her eyes, she can dimly imagine him and Nick, two lanky male bodies pressed together, Harry’s hand curled around the back of Nick’s neck like it does around hers, their mouths pressing and parting. She quashes the instinctive throb of jealousy, tries to smooth out her voice when she says, “Just tell me what happened.”

“I went to his for dinner—he does these Sunday roast things—and afterwards I stayed to help tidy up. And then I just didn’t leave, which is what always ends up happening in Nick’s flat. Really, there may be some kind of time warp. But then since we’d talked about it, he and I, what the agreement was, we just. Went to bed, I guess? Do you want to know more?”

Taylor finds that she does, that she wants to picture it, know the boundaries of what happened so that it doesn’t get all tangled up in her own expectations. A greedy part of her wishes she could have seen it, could have watched the way they fit. “Tell me.”

“We just started kissing over the last of the washing up. He kept splashing me with the dishwater, and then he was like, Ooh, Harry, dear, let’s get you out of those wet clothes.” He laughs, and that stings more than the thought of him sleeping with Nick, the thought that Nick might make him laugh that way. “And I kissed him, in the kitchen, and then down the corridor to his bedroom. And then we… had sex.” His voice drops off at the end, and she doesn’t want to ask for more, except that she totally does.

“What did you do with him?” she says, and shuts her eyes to picture it, the two of them kissing in the hallway, Nick’s fingers wet on Harry’s skin.

“Is that… do you really want to know?”

“Yeah. I think it would help.”

“He sucked me off, and then he fucked me,” says Harry baldly, and Taylor feels her skin go hot, a sudden buzz of sensation in her belly.

“Was it good?”

Harry sighs happily. “Yeah. It was really good. It always is. Nick’s just… he knows what he’s doing.”

“And you like that? What you did with him?” And jeez, is she twelve? But she can’t make herself specify, can’t say “getting fucked” to Harry.

“Yeah,” he says, drawn out a little, like he’s thinking of it, and her hand slips down between her legs as she thinks of it, too, Harry opened up for a man, for someone who can work deep into him. “What’s it like?”

He’s silent for a long moment, and she bites her lip, wondering how to take it back. “Are you touching yourself?” Harry asks finally, sounding sly. Taylor places her hand firmly back on her thigh, heartbeat drumming guiltily in her ears. “It’s all right if you are. I’d like that, if this was good for you. If it isn’t just too weird.”

“Not too weird,” Taylor says. “Definitely. Tell me.”

“Tell me you’re touching yourself.”

“I’m touching myself.” There’s no point in dissembling now, so she slides her fingers under her silky pajama pants, rubs gently over her clit and lets her sharp breath gust against the phone.

Harry says, “Oh. Yeah. Good.” And he seems to lose track of what he’s doing, listening to her breathe. It should make Taylor shy, but she’s the kind of girl who lets her boyfriend have an exception, and that kind of girl would never be ashamed of how turned on she is right now.

“Harry. Tell me.”

“Yeah, I”—he laughs, sheepish—“I haven’t really done this before. But I’ll try. So he always wants to get me off first, before anything else. With his hands or his mouth. And he’s got a gorgeous mouth. The first time he blew me, we were in the loo at this club, and I think I came in about thirty seconds. He’s just, he’s really good.”

Taylor imagines that, Harry flat on his back in Nick Grimshaw’s bed, Nick’s mouth sliding slickly around the head of Harry’s flushed cock. She makes a little “go ahead” noise to urge Harry on.

“So he got me out of my wet clothes, you know.”

“He didn’t want you to catch pneumonia. That’s sweet.” He laughs, and Taylor presses her thumb against her clit and smiles, triumphant. She can make Harry laugh, too.

“He got down on his knees in front of me, and he was still in all his clothes and I was naked and it was bloody cold in his flat. I was actually shivering, all goosepimply. So he put me in his bed instead. And he blew me.” Harry pauses, and she can hear his breath, hear the slight catch of it.

“Are you touching yourself?” she asks.

“Can’t help it when I think about you doing it.”

“Cute,” says Taylor, sliding one finger into herself, stroking in deep.

“No, just horny.” They’re quiet for a minute, together, and Taylor wants him with her, wants to feel him against her.

“Tell me about you and Nick.”

“He likes using his mouth, his tongue. And he teases. God, he just keeps me on edge for ages. He went down on me and wouldn’t let me come. Every time I got close he’d just pull off. I had to beg.”

Taylor tries to hold back her gasp. “Does he make you beg a lot?”

“Sometimes. But I don’t mind it.”

There’s nothing she can say to that, just files it away in case she needs to know, in case she ever wants to make Harry beg. She imagines the way his voice would break, the desperation in his eyes. “Then what?” she asks, rubbing her thumb in little circles over her clit.

“After he finally let me come, he fucked me. With his fingers first while I was still all loose and, you know, he could just move me around however. I like it on my back, even though I’ve got to get my knees up by my ears and it’s a little awkward sometimes.”

“What does it feel like?”

Harry goes silent, although she can hear him breathing, knows he must have a hand on himself. “It’s good,” he says. “It’s really good. And sometimes I wonder, is it like that for you?”

“Well, it’s good for me.” She thinks about it, how it feels when he’s deep inside her, holding her hips in the span of his hands, her thighs tight around him. “But I don’t know if it’s the same.”

“I’m just so full of him. I can’t think about anything else. And Nick’s got a lot of stamina. So he can just stay in me.” His voice is low, dreamy, and she shuts her eyes and pictures it, Harry taking it, slick and open for something she can’t give him.

“That sounds nice,” she says, but it’s so inadequate for what she means. He’s telling her something intimate, and she’s giving nothing back. “I like it when, when it lasts. When I feel it afterwards.” She’s only been with two other people, and neither of them left her feeling like Harry does, like there’s a space inside her after he’s been there. She wonders if Nick was the one who taught him how to do that.

“I like when I can feel it after,” Harry agrees. He takes a couple of hitching breaths, and Taylor imagines his big hand wrapped around his dick. She’s never just watched someone else get off, never been present for it without getting involved, but she wants to see how Harry does it.

“Can you feel it now?” she asks. Her pajamas are inhibiting her wrist movement, so she skates them off her hips, curls the tips of two fingers into herself, rocking upward until she hits the right angle, grinding into the palm of her hand.

“Yeah,” says Harry, swallowing loudly. It’s comforting that he’s nearly as inarticulate as she is, that this is something they can learn together. “It turns you on, when I talk about it?”

“I didn’t know it would,” she admits. “But it does.”

“I like that,” says Harry. “I like that a lot. Are you picturing it?”

Taylor shuts her eyes again, imagines the look on Harry’s face when he comes, something she’s starting to know well. “Yeah.”

“You’ve met Nick, right?”

“Once, maybe.” She shrugs the phone in tighter against her ear. “But I’m not picturing him so much.” She’s wet enough that it makes a sound when she drags her fingers out, rubbing at her clit again, quick little circles over the swollen bead of it. She could think about Nick Grimshaw, but she doesn’t need to. Harry’s giving her the pieces of the picture that matter.

“He has the longest fingers. Really, like, good for sex stuff.”

Taylor bites her lip, pressing harder on her clit, concentrating her strokes. “How many of them does he use? Inside you?”

“Two, usually.” Harry’s breathing is soft and ragged down the line. “Sometimes three, if I’m really turned on, and two isn’t enough.”

Taylor tries three fingers for herself, opening up on them until it feels like it’s enough but not too much. She can’t help the way she gasps, the sound that spills out of her as she fucks herself deep. There’s rustling, then silence, at the other end of the line.

“Did you just…” Harry asks.

“No,” says Taylor shakily. “But I’m close. Are you close?”

“Yeah,” says Harry. “Wish I was there. Wish I could put my mouth on you.”

The first time Harry went down on her, Taylor came twice before she had to push him off, too sensitive to keep going. He was eager and single-minded, brow furrowed intently as he lapped at her, and his whole chin was smeared with wet when he came up for air. “I wish that too,” she says because she can’t make herself say more. She’s never tried to talk dirty, and she knows the words aren’t likely to ever flow off her tongue. She can’t tell Harry how wet she is, how easy for the three fingers she has hooked inside herself. But she can give him this. “Wish you were here.” She works her hips upward, chasing her orgasm, so close to that edge.

“I want to hear you come,” he whispers.

Taylor rubs her thumb over her clit, thrusting into the curve of her own hand, bearing down on her fingers, and that’s all she needs. She whimpers as she comes, rubbing herself through it, working out every last tremor and gasping into the phone as she pulls her fingers out of her soaked pussy.

Harry’s breath is as loud as hers, uneven through the phone. “Can I hear you too?” Taylor asks. She closes her eyes and listens to him, imagines him pressed against her, his mouth hot on the side of her neck as he moves inside her.

“Want you,” Harry says dreamily. Taylor hears his breath stop and Harry’s strangled little moan, and there’s some pride in knowing he was thinking about Nick when they started this, and now he’s thinking about nothing but her.

“I’ll see you soon, right?” says Taylor, still trailing her fingers up and down between her legs.

“Just a few days,” agrees Harry. “And then we can be as filthy as we like.”

“Not too filthy,” Taylor tells him. He’s bending all the rules apart, opening her up in ways she couldn’t have expected. She’s going to find new lines though, she knows, new boundaries to what she wants and what she’s willing to try. And Harry needs to realize that too. There are still going to be places he goes that she can’t follow.

“Just filthy enough,” says Harry gently. “This was okay, though?”

“Yeah,” says Taylor. “We had a deal and you kept it. That’s really important. That may be the most important thing. And I like, you know, hearing about things you like.”

“You’ll have to talk more next time. Let me hear a bit about things you like too.”

“I don’t have a Nick though. I don’t have someone else.” She realizes how it sounds, but she can’t take it back. She can only temper it. “I don’t have a person to tell you about.”

“You’re a person. You can tell me about you. I’ve got a feeling there’s a lot for me to learn.”

Taylor thinks of herself as uncomplicated, at least in this way, but maybe that’s because no one’s ever asked her if the sex she’s having is really the sex she wants most. “I’ll see what I can teach you,” says Taylor softly, and she hopes it sounds sexy rather than scared. Now she’s in bed by herself, not touching, not frantic to come, it seems harder. Could she even do that in front of him if he were actually here? She’s comfortable with her body, but not that comfortable.

“I can’t wait to see you,” Harry tells her, and Taylor smiles. “Not just for sex things. For everything.”

“Everything sounds good.” She pulls her comforter up to her chin. She’ll have to get up soon. But not quite yet. She listens to Harry breathe from an ocean away.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://realmenwearpuppypants.tumblr.com/). <3


End file.
